Can You Be Jewish and Believe in Jesus? Julia’s Story.

Claire
May 24
5 min read

Before my husband, before moving to Israel, and before my conversion broadened my horizons, I had a very simplistic understanding of Jewish identity. I used to think “Jewish” referred to one unified belief system, the same way I tended to think about many religions in broad, simplified terms. Religion itself was never something I explored deeply; I’ve always been more interested in individuals than institutions or doctrines.

But life gradually led me toward Judaism, and I soon discovered an entire spectrum of identities: religious, secular, atheist, cultural, traditional, spiritual, and everything in between. Some Jews keep kosher and attend synagogue weekly. Some keep kosher at home but are more flexible outside. Others don’t believe in God at all but still feel deeply connected to Jewish history, humor, food, music, and community.[Exploring Jewish Atheism]

And then I met Julia. I already knew some Jewish people believed in Jesus, but I didn’t really understand how that worked or why.

Now I was about to find out.

We met while volunteering at a local food bank. During one shift, our conversation drifted toward my own conversion to Judaism. Julia looked surprised when I explained that I wasn’t religious. Usually converts are.

“By the way,” she said casually, “I’m Jewish too. But more precisely, I’m a Jew for Jesus.”

Really! But how?

The Three-Year Theological Wrestling Match

As it turned out, Julia’s beliefs weren’t the result of a dramatic conversion moment or a spiritual whim. Her journey involved years of debate, reading, questioning, and theological wrestling — eventually leading her to believe that Jesus was the Jewish Messiah.

Growing up, Julia says she knew three things for certain:

She was Jewish.
God probably existed somewhere – often referenced as "God willing, God forbid."
Jesus was definitely not for Jews.

When Julia was sixteen, her mother died unexpectedly. The loss threw her into a deep pain, confronting her with questions about death, meaning, and suffering.

Unlike her older siblings, she hadn’t been raised going to shul, and religion held little appeal for her. Desperate for answers — and equally desperate to numb the grief — she searched everywhere: New Age spirituality, physics, mediums, expensive self-development courses. Nothing brought peace or clarity.

But underneath the confusion, one stubborn conviction remained: Deep down, she believed there had to be a God.

By 1995, Julia was 29 and living alone in a small flat in North London. She had a solid job in central London, an active social life, and a side career as a semi-professional musician.

“On paper, I had a good life,” she told me, “but I felt no shalom.”

One morning, she woke up in tears and cried out: “God, if You are real, please help me.”

Whether you believe in coincidences or not, just forty-eight hours later she met Tessa — a woman who would change the course of her life.

Tessa was a Christian and, in Julia’s words, initially filed under “happy-clappy Christian barking up the wrong tree".

“I told her straight away, 'I'm Jewish. Jesus isn’t for me.’”

What followed was not a lightning-bolt moment, but a three-year theological wrestling match.

Julia repeatedly insisted that Jesus had nothing to do with Judaism. Tessa challenged her to actually read the Brit Hadasha (New Covenant) and showed her passages in the Tanakh relating to the Messiah.

“At first, I was hoping to prove her wrong,” Julia admits. “But I also knew it would be naïve to argue about something I hadn’t read for myself.”

Julia began reading both the Hebrew Bible and, cautiously, the New Testament. Gradually, she started wondering whether the person whose “name my mother insisted we don’t say in our house” might actually fit the prophetic descriptions of the promised Messiah.

The Prophecies That Changed Everything

Even though I am not religious, when Julia used the term “biblical prophecies,” my ears perked up. It felt less like theology and more like a 3,000-year-old mystery—a bit like The Da Vinci Code.

Julia says the prophecy she found hardest to explain away was Daniel 9:26, which describes the “Anointed One” being “cut off” before the destruction of the Second Temple.

“The Temple was destroyed roughly forty years after Jesus’ death,” she explained. “I remember thinking: if Daniel’s timeline is accurate, then Jesus fits it.”

Isaiah 53 affected her just as deeply. It describes a figure who is rejected, suffers innocently, and bears the suffering of others. “That prophecy was written around 700 years before Jesus,” she says, “yet Isaiah’s description of suffering mirrors the crucifixion in extraordinary detail.”

She tried to ignore the fact that she was even reading the Bible, but the thoughts simply wouldn’t leave her alone. She explained while describing the feeling: “It was like having a tiny stone stuck in your shoe. You take the shoe off, shake it out, put it back on… and somehow the stone is still there.”

Finding Identity Without Contradiction: Can You Be Jewish and Believe in Jesus?

Julia doesn’t experience her identity as conflicting. “Following Him doesn’t replace my Jewish identity; it deepens it,” she says.

That doesn’t mean the transition was emotionally simple. Her first reaction was actually guilt. She worried about her family, her heritage, and the weight of generations before her. But eventually, she stopped focusing on fear and continued reading Scripture for herself.

“I realized that two thousand years ago, many Jewish people believed Jesus was the Messiah,” she says. “I’m simply part of that same lineage.”

She remembers fondly the debates with her brother.

“Two Jews, three opinions,” she jokes.

At first, he was deeply skeptical. But over time, he noticed a change in her that he couldn’t ignore.

“He once told me he wished he had the peace and contentment he saw in me,” she recalls.

That memory became especially precious after he passed away unexpectedly not long afterward.

Today, Julia moves comfortably between worlds. She loves Pesach most of all, followed closely by Sukkot, and finds joy in helping Christian friends understand the Jewish roots of their faith.

Whether or not one agrees with her conclusions, what stays with me is not the theology, but the person. Her peace feels genuine and difficult to ignore. She’s one of those people who naturally puts others at ease, carrying a calm, grounded presence that feels reassuring. She is always willing to go the extra step for others, and has a smile that lights up the room.

If you’re inclined to explore Julia’s journey or Messianic Judaism further, you can continue the discussion with her here.